


Grey Skies

by Shi_Toyu



Series: Grey Scale [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Arguments, Bacon, Blood and Violence, Breakfast, Chicago (City), Crime Fighting, Crime Scenes, Crimes & Criminals, Death, Drug Use, Drugs, Epic Bromance, Fluff, Friendship, Government Agencies, Government Conspiracy, Gun Violence, Gunplay, Happy Murder Family, Ice Cream, Idiots, Journalism, Loyalty, Minor Injuries, Morally Ambiguous Character, Murder, Organized Crime, Psychology, Psychopath, Psychopaths In Love, Secret Organizations, Serious Injuries, Smoking, Spies & Secret Agents, That's Not Good Kids Don't Do That, Undercover, Violence, mixing drugs with alcohol, possible bromance to romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2018-11-12 02:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11152806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shi_Toyu/pseuds/Shi_Toyu
Summary: It's Grey's job to kill the people who deserve it... which is good because those are exactly the people he enjoys killing most.*Bad summary is bad and subject to change.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my original novel. I'm hoping I can get enough of a response on it to motivate myself to actually finish it. I have 27 chapters fully written so there's a good buffer zone before I run out, at least.

There was something therapeutic about fighting an opponent who was just as deadly as himself. It made every punch, block, and tumble that much more exciting. Grey’s heart pounded with the exertion as his feet danced across the floor. He’d taken about six months of martial arts training when he was 13, but most of his style had been picked up off the streets. One tended to learn a few tricks while fighting for their life.

His opponent had more training. That much was pretty obvious. His moves were tight, controlled. When he’d first met the man, Grey had made the mistake of thinking his baby face and enthusiastic demeanor meant he wasn’t to be taken seriously.  Now, staring into piercing eyes full of focus and determination, no one would make that assumption.

A quick strike of a fist hit Grey hard in his side and he rolled with it to avoid the worst of the blow. He tumbled sideways into a somersault that he came out of in a crouch and launched himself back at his opponent, catching the slightly younger man around the middle and tackling him backwards. They hit the ground with a smack that knocked the breath out of both of them, but Grey was the first to recover.

He scrambled up the other man’s body to straddle his hips. His heavier weight worked to his advantage as he held the man down, but that didn’t mean the other stopped fighting. The body under him turned into a writhing mass of limbs as Grey struggled to keep from being dislodged. It was like trying to fight an octopus rather than a man. His hands reached for the other’s neck, but didn’t make contact before they were suddenly rolling to the side.

They rolled a couple of times, each one trying to get the upper hand, before Grey wound up back on top. His shirt was soaked in sweat and his hair hung down in his face. It was getting far too long again. Danny would need to cut it for him soon. One forearm was pressed against his opponent’s neck, pushing down on the other’s windpipe while keeping him pinned against the floor.

A couple of vicious blows hit Grey in the ribs, one after another, and made him grit his teeth against the pain. Those bones weren’t what they used to be anymore. They’d been broken too many times. His pressure on the other man’s neck never wavered, though, despite the pain. He’d always had a bit of a stubborn streak, and he wasn’t letting up on this one until it was over.

Unfortunately, his opponent wasn’t ready to go down just yet. Another blow connected, this time to the side of Grey’s skull. His ears were ringing as he was knocked aside. He grunted at the discomfort, but it was far from the worst blow he’d ever taken. He _hated_ New Zealand.

His opponent wasn’t interested in giving him any time to recover and the older man attempted to reorient himself past the spinning in his skull. Instead, pale fingers reached to wrap themselves around Grey’s throat. Not at all excited about the idea of being choked, Grey drew one knee into his chest and kicked out, swiftly catching the younger man just below his ribs and throwing him backward.

The two scrambled to their feet, now with a bubble of space between them. They circled each other warily, each looking for a weakness or chink in the other’s defense. There were a few fake starts, each of them trying to draw the other into attacking, but none of it worked. Grey saw the ticking in his opponent’s jaw, though, and knew that he wouldn’t have to wait much longer.

A wicked grin spread slowly across his face. He knew that it would serve as a taunt to his opponent, but it was also a genuine smile. Grey was a patient man, had learned early on that waiting and watching paid off in his line of work, but it never failed to please him when he got to see the fruits of that particular virtue.  He had so few of them, after all.

Sure enough, it was only moments before the other man was charging forward again. He went for a right hook, then a left, and tried to push Grey backwards with a barrage of hits. Grey’s defense was solid, though, and he stood his ground. He kept his arms up and let them take the worst of the punishment as he waited for his opponent to falter. His opening would come quickly if he waited just a little bit more.

As the younger man drew back just a touch, Grey’s gaze sharpened. He stepped forward, not quite getting into the other’s space, and stomped down with one foot, close to the other’s ankles. At that point, it was just instinct that caused his opponent’s guard to drop as he moved to protect his lower half. It was a technique Grey had used before and it never seemed to fail. He loved it. It was such a shame he couldn’t thank the guy he’d learned it from, but it was hard to get a message delivered to an unmarked grave.

Grey’s fist hit the other man’s face squarely across the jaw, throwing him off his feet and onto the ground once again. He knew that blow would cause a moment of stunned inactivity in which Grey could decide whether he wanted to follow him down or not. They’d already had quite a bit of wrestling in this match and Grey’s knees hadn’t been acting very agreeable the past few days.

Luckily, he didn’t have to make his decision as the shrill ringing of a cellphone sounded from the sidelines of their fight. His opponent groaned and rolled over, peeking one eye open to look up at Grey.

“Is that mine or yours?”

As if Grey would ever choose such an irritatingly catchy pop song as his ring tone.

“Yours, Danny. You probably want to get that.”

Grumbling under his breath about inconsiderate partners and not being appreciated, Danny picking himself up off the floor and headed toward the pile of their things. He sat down heavily on one of the metal benches, pulled off his gloves, and answered his phone while twisting the top off of a water bottle.

“Daniel Morgan…Yes, sir…No, I’m afraid I don’t have my computer with me. We’re sparring in the gym…Yes, sir. Absolutely…Right. Of course…You as well, sir. Have a good afternoon.”

Grey watched his partner talk as he rooted through their things for his own water bottle, filled with green tea. He raised an eyebrow as Danny hung up and the younger man smiled right back at him.

“New mission. The details just got sent over.”

Grey felt his own lips twitch into a smirk. It’d been almost six weeks since he’d been able to kill someone and the itch under his skin had been getting hard to ignore. An assignment was just what he needed to ease the tension inside. He found his bottle and clicked it open, taking a long swig.

“Where are we headed?”

“Chicago, my friend! The Windy City! I don’t think we’ve been there yet, have we?”

Danny’s eyes were already lighting up with excitement as he and Grey gathered their things and headed for the door. No matter how many assignments they got, Danny always acted like they were getting to go on vacation instead of being sent off to track someone down and kill them.

“It’ll be nice not to have to deal with the international flight.”

That got him a knowing look from his companion. Anyone who had ever traveled with Grey knew how much he hated flying. It wasn’t a fear of crashing or anything like that. Grey just didn’t like being crammed into such a small space with so many other people. It made him antsy and that wasn’t usually a good state for him to be in if those around him didn’t want a severely shortened life-expectancy.

“I’ll give you that. I think it’s only an hour or two from DC. Sure beats a ten hour drive.”

Grey hummed in response as they walked through the corridors and toward Danny’s room.  The email with all of the information for the assignment was sitting in his inbox, right on top, and the agent didn’t waste any time in opening it up. Grey was leaning against the back of his partner’s chair, reading over his shoulder.

“Drugs and gang violence? That’s kind of low-end for us.”

Grey couldn’t keep the frown out of his voice. He wasn’t that he minded being sent to get rid of gangsters, it was just that the government usually had something a bit more impactful for him to do, like tracking down the head of a cartel in South America like his last assignment. They reserved their hired killers for operations that carried a lot of weight. This seemed more like something to be handled by the local police or the FBI.

“No, no. Look here.” Danny pointed to something on the screen. “Apparently this guy is gaining a lot of power fast. It’s too fast for him not to be connected to something bigger. And he’s bringing in product that hasn’t been available in the US before. It’s obvious he knows people in high places. Intelligence couldn’t get any information on him for the longest time, either. That’s the only reason he wasn’t brought down earlier. I’m betting the boss man is much more interested in who he’s working for than he is in this guy.”

Grey nodded and stole the mouse away from Danny to click back to the first page, ignoring his partner’s noise of protest. He’d been stealing things from Danny since the day they’d met. He should really be used to it by now.

The picture of the target was a candid shot taken as the man exited a café. He was tall, at least 6’2” and he had light brown hair and tan skin. He looked more like an office worker than a gangster, but Grey wasn’t one to judge. No one had known he was serial killer back when he’d been working as a file clerk for the State Court after all.

There would be time later to look over the file in detail, but Grey had read enough to know that this man fit his profile. Unlike many compulsive killers, Grey wasn’t interested in the gender or age of his victims. What Grey really looked for was someone who needed to be punished, someone who had earned their death by his hand.

Before he’d gotten caught and the people he now worked for had offered him a job as a Security Contract Operative, he’d used his access as a file clerk to find his victims. He picked those who’d slipped through the system, the ones who kept getting caught but there wasn’t enough evidence to convict or had managed to get off on some technicality or other. This man was definitely someone who needed to be put in his place. He hurt others for fun and Grey would have little trouble hurting him in turn. He smiled at the picture on the screen.

“Hello, Rocky Hutchinson. I’m Charles Grey… and I’m going to be the death of you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grey and Danny make it to their destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much to everyone who has commented so far! I appreciate your kind words and feedback. Here is the next chapter!

“There it is! There it is! Grab it!”

Grey lunged forward past a tiny woman in spindly heels to grab the handle of Danny’s suitcase and pull it off the conveyer belt. He cast a critical look at her shoes as he turned back to his partner. Who thought it was a good idea to travel in attire that was so clearly uncomfortable? He’d never really seen the appeal of high heels to begin with, but to travel in them just pushed the insanity over the edge.

He dropped Danny’s bag at the agent’s feet and bent to pick up his own duffle. A small padlock was attached to the two sides of the zipper, preventing anyone from getting in. TSA would have received word that their luggage was to pass through uninspected, but he never liked to take risks…which was probably also why Danny was the only one to ever check a bag.

“You ready to go now? Can we leave?”

Daniel grinned at him and nodded, adjusting the bacon-shaped pillow under his arm so he could grab the handle of his roller. The younger man led the way through the airport and out to the taxi stand in front. Grey took the opportunity to light up a cigarette as soon as they were in the open air. He cupped his hand against the wind and pulled his jacket closer around himself as soon as the stick was alight. Late October was not kind to the Windy City. He didn’t even want to think about what the weather would be like once winter came.

Danny had his phone out and was browsing different sites online, chattering away about all the things that the two needed to do while they were in town. Apparently there was some new-age, artsy musical playing at one of the smaller theaters. Grey wished he could believe that it was all a show for the people around them, but he knew the gleam in Daniel’s eye well. He was actually excited over all the tourist nonsense. Grey resisted the urge to sigh heavily as the attendant waved them toward a waiting vehicle.

The driver, a tall, skinny man who couldn’t have been older than 25, loaded their bags into the trunk before opening a door for them. Grey tossed his half-finished cigarette to the ground and stomped on it before climbing inside. He’d been trying to quit anyway.

“Address?”

Grey settled back into his seat and looked out the window as Danny told the driver where they were staying. He found that one could learn a lot from watching the people in any given city or town. Even at the airport, with so many out-of-towners, it was possible to pick up the pattern and feeling of a place. Judging by the amount of construction going on, the various styles of architecture, and the general hustle and bustle, Grey knew he was in a city of progress.

Its people had a drive, a desire to improve and push forward. They weren’t satisfied with just being, they had to strive toward the future. But they also valued their history. That much was clear as the taxi drove them through the city. There wasn’t a street they passed that didn’t have something new right beside something old. Grey liked it, the feeling of it.

It took maybe 15 or 20 minutes for them to reach their destination. It was a slightly run-down, 70’s style motel only a few blocks off of the Magnificent Mile. It was a good location, even if the accommodations were less than pristine. Grey and Daniel had stayed in worse places anyway, and the killer had long ago learned that his employer didn’t have an interest in springing for cushy rooms and hotels like secret agents in the movies. It helped that places like this one didn’t usually have things like an abundance of security cameras. It helped keep Grey and his partner anonymous, one of the hardest parts of their job in an age of ever-evolving technology.

It was two stories tall and about 10 rooms across, double sided. It also looked like the owners hadn’t updated anything on the property since it had first opened. Grey frowned as he took his bag from the taxi driver. If he got bed bugs from this place, he was putting in a complaint to HR. Danny, though, looked ecstatic as he surveyed the building.

“Isn’t this cool? It’s like taking a step back in time!”

He continued grinning as he headed toward to office which was located in a small building off to the side. Grey tailed after him far less enthusiastically. Danny’s personality made it very easy to deal with those they encountered who had nothing to do with the underworld and it’d gotten them out of a lot of sticky situations in the past. After all, no one suspected the upbeat, peppy young man of being a government agent whose partner had been killing since before he’d gotten paid to. That didn’t always make it easy to be around though, especially not when all Grey wanted to do was dive into the file they had on Hutchinson.

The older woman behind the counter and bullet-proof glass seemed just as impressed by Danny’s cheer as Grey was. She had steel-grey hair rolled tight enough to look like it hurt and an expression like she’d been sucking on a lemon dipped in acid. She glared at them from the moment they entered until they stepped back out into the cool air. Daniel, as per usual, didn’t even seem to notice.

“Okay, we’re in room 104. Shouldn’t be hard to find!”

It wasn’t. It was right in front, another room on the left and a stairwell leading up to the second floor on the right. Danny unlocked the door and they stepped inside. It was a basic room, as to be expected. There were two beds, a luxury Grey felt a surge of appreciation for after their last assignment, and a bathroom tucked away in the back. The mirror looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in at least a year, and the carpet had some questionable stains, but it wasn’t as bad as Grey had been expecting.

He claimed the bed farthest into the room by throwing his bag on it and starting to unpack. He tucked the lock into the bedside drawer along with his 9mm, setting them gently next to the King James Bible before turning back to collect his clothes and 380 auto to stash in the dresser that sat across from the beds. Behind him, he could hear Danny settling in as well, which really meant throwing his suitcase in a corner and climbing onto the bed with his shoes still on and his computer in his lap.

The clicking of his partner’s keyboard filled the room and Grey let the sound calm his nerves. He was always more jumpy at the beginning of a job, before the pieces started to fall into place. His hands itched to wrap around a throat or to pull a trigger and end someone’s life. It was his compulsion, his need, and he didn’t like knowing he was so close but still unable to complete the task just yet.

As soon as he was settled in, Danny turned the computer toward him so he could see the screen. Grey picked it up before settling on the edge of the ugly, paisley comforter. They would have more time to comb through the information now, to focus on details. It was something that Grey loved every moment of and he couldn’t wait to get started.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gery and Danny learn some more about their target.

“This boy’s got quite a history to him.”

Danny hummed in agreement, flipping through the same file on his phone.

“He started out young, too. I have to admit I’m a little impressed. Apparently he started working for the Cortanelli family back in New York before he was even 15.”

Grey nodded thoughtfully around his slice of pizza. There was a rather famous place right around the corner and they’d gotten their order togo. Grey wasn’t overly impressed, but he also was a bit skeptical of just how famous a pizza place could be when there seemed to be a ‘world renowned’ pie on every corner. He ate it anyway.

“Yeah, didn’t kill anybody until he was in his twenties, though.”

Danny smirked and bumped shoulders with him. It was the start of an old joke between them.

“Hey, not everyone can start as early as you did.”

“I’m just saying it’s not very impressive is all…I have to give him credit for this assault arrest though. Did you see that?”

Frowning at his phone, the black-haired man flicked between screens before taking a moment to look over what Grey was talking about. His eyebrows shot up towards his hairline.

“He did that with his _fists_?”

Grey chuckled, forever amused by his partner’s shock upon seeing gruesome pictures but complete willingness to grab a vivisected body to shove it in a trunk.

“He switched to a pipe for that bit with the knee caps, but yeah.” A frown tugged at the edges of his mouth, a familiar darkness unfurling in his stomach. “I’d be a bit more understanding if he’d done it in a bar fight instead of to his girlfriend, though.”

His eyes stuck on the girl’s face from the hospital records. It was obvious that under all the bruising and swelling that she’d been a pretty girl. He wondered if she would ever be able to make a full recovery or if the memory of this attack would haunt her for the rest of her life. Danny’s shoulder hit his again and jolted him out of his thoughts.

“You with me, Grey?”

Shaking his head to get rid of the fog, he gave a jerky nod.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.”

Danny shrugged.

“No need to apologize. You know I don’t like it any more than you do.”

They settled back into a companionable silence. Now that work was on the table, Danny’s bubbly excitement had been stemmed by concentration.  They were both focused on getting the information they needed to put this bastard away for good, no matter what it took. It was why they worked well together.

“Hmmm…it looks like we’ll be needing some subway cards. His hangouts are spread all over the city.”

Grey was glad for the change of topic, but didn’t mention it. He didn’t need to.

“We’ll pick some up in the morning. I don’t like wandering the subways of a foreign city in the middle of the night unless I’m the one doing the stalking.”

Danny snorted. It was kind of amazing that they could joke around with each other about such things. Most of the pairings from the Agency had at least slightly-strained relationships. It was just a natural byproduct of putting federal agents and serial killers together. The screening process kept things from getting too heated most of the time, but there had been more than one incident in the past.

Granted, Danny and Grey hadn’t always gotten along. When they’d first met, they’d downright hated each other. They still drove each other crazy, but it wasn’t quite the same.

“Tomorrow it is, then. Hey, I was thinking we could hit up the architecture river tour. You know, to get the lay of the land.”

Grey shot his partner a look that said he wasn’t buying it for a moment.

“And I’m sure this desire has nothing to do with your incessant need to play the tourist.”

“Hey! Just because _you_ want to be a stick in the mud and jump straight to the blood bath doesn’t mean that the rest of us are the same way. Stop to smell the roses every once in a while, okay? Once the assignment’s over we have to head back to HQ.”

“And if someone else dies because we were too busy gawking at the scenery to do our jobs?”

“Then you can shoot him in the knees before you kill him, just to make sure he suffers a little. C’mon, Grey! Just _one_ tour wouldn’t hurt.”

Grey frowned at his computer. Technically, Danny was the one who called all the shots. The killers the Bureau employed weren’t given a lot of choices when it came to what happened on missions. All a handler really had to do was report back to the higher ups that the killer was starting to show signs of losing control and they’d be ‘put down’. Danny wouldn’t do that, Grey knew, but it was only another example of how much freedom his partner afforded to him. He could be a lot worse off than he was.

“Alright. But just one… and make sure it’s a tour that _actually_ will take us around the city and give us an idea of where things are. You can treat this like a vacation all you want, but I’ll be concentrating on saving lives.”

Despite the harshness of his words, Grey’s tone was still fond. They’d been working together far too long for such little quirks to come between them. They had pretty much the same exact conversation at the beginning of every assignment anyway. Really, it might be better if they just gave up and planned for a single, productive tour every trip instead of wasting time with the argument.

Silence fell across the room as they each bent to their own tasks. Daniel delved head-first into researching the different tours in the city while Grey continued going through Rocky’s file. There wasn’t a lot to it, mostly police, court, and hospital records. They were grouped by incident, which helped, but it still took a lot of time to dig through all the technical jargon and speculation to figure out what really happened.

The pictures were probably the worst part. When the violence was put down on paper, it was easy to create a distance between himself and the victim. It became clinical and he didn’t have to let them become real. It helped contain the itch under his skin, the need for blood.

Pictures, though… There was no way to avoid the reality they put forward. Rocky tended to rough up pretty young women more often than men, it seemed. Grey didn’t have a problem with killing particular gender himself, but it always rankled him to see another’s victim. Most of Rocky’s victims had actually survived the violence against them. Grey supposed that made them better off than the women he had killed, even if the women he had killed had deserved it.

Outside of his bouts of domestic violence, the rising drug lord wasn’t associated with many physical altercations. Given his trade it was unlikely that he was able to avoid them completely, but he was at least smart enough to get his underlings to take care of his dirty work for him. That or he just didn’t like getting his hands dirty for anything but pleasure. Either one was a viable choice.

“How about this one?”

Grey was startled out of his thoughts by Danny’s sudden question. He’d almost forgotten the other’s presence entirely, which wasn’t uncommon, and he struggled to remember what their conversation had been about. His partner was holding his phone out to Grey and grinning broadly. Oh, right. The tour.

Resisting the urge to heave a heavy sigh, Grey took the phone and looked over the tour Danny had found. It was a bus tour that traveled around a number of neighborhoods throughout Chicago and concentrated on the gangsters of the Roaring 20’s. It wouldn’t cover everything they needed, but it would certainly provide a decent enough foundation to get started. He handed the phone back.

“Sure. Seems fine.”

“You’re the best, Grey! And I mean that.”

“You only ever say that when I give you something you want.”

Daniel snorted and changed positions to lie on his stomach, chest propped up on his bacon pillow.

“Of course. The fact that you give me what I want is what makes you the best.”

“Just let me know when and where I need to be.” Grey said, standing and moving over to the closet to grab his jacket and the scarf that’d been tucked in his bag. He removed his 9mm from the nightstand and slipped it into the back of his waistband. It was a familiar weight at the small of his back and he adjusted his clothes to make sure there wasn’t a visible bulge.

“Where are you going?”

“To start tracking this guy down. From the looks of this place, there will be somewhere I can buy drugs not too far away.”  He grinned sharply at his partner still lounging on the bed. “It’s important to support the local businesses, you know.”

Danny just laughed as he headed out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Grey heads out into the city.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grey heads out to get some more information

As cold as Chicago was during the day, it was even colder at night. Grey hadn’t even been on the street for more than a minute before his cheeks were bitten red by the frigid air. He hunched his shoulders and dug his hands deeper into his pockets. He really, really didn’t like the cold.

Trying to distract himself, he glanced around the parking lot of the motel. The area looked mostly deserted, which wasn’t very surprising. If he turned left, it would take him to the Magnificent Mile, Chicago’s main shopping strip. It was a tourist attraction as well as a playground for those with more money than they knew what to do with. Busy was good, but an area too nice would also mean more security. The kind of people Grey was looking for would be less likely to hang out in the area.

He could turn right, but there didn’t appear to be much of anything in that direction to draw someone to it. Other than what he could see, there weren’t any landmarks in that direction he knew of. He really needed to get his hands on a map. A quick glance as the closed office of their motel told him he wasn’t going to have any luck getting one there.

After a moment of hesitation, he turned left and headed towards the busy area of Chicago. No doubt there would be plenty of hotels there he could slip into and get a map from. If nothing else, it was a place to start and that was always the hardest part of having an assignment in a new location. It was all about finding and inserting himself into the local underground and that was hard to do without any previous contacts to rely on.

It was surprising, actually, to see how few people were actually out on the street. There were a few clusters of people outside of assorted restaurants but he didn’t encounter many individuals just walking around. It wasn’t until he was about a block away from his destination that he saw an increase in the traffic.

His first course of action was to slip into one of the hotels along the strip. The one he chose had tall, towering ceilings with plush carpet and cushioned chairs all throughout the lobby. A bar dominated the room, an impressive light sculpture reaching up toward the two story ceiling. Grey barely glanced around before heading towards the line of desks against the far wall. He bypassed the check-in desks and headed straight for the concierge.  He’d found that looking like you knew where you were going helped a lot when walking into places where you didn’t really belong.

The man behind the desk was tall and broad-shouldered, with simple diamond studs in each ear. He looked like he would look right at home guarding to door to a club rather than manning the desk in a fancy hotel. Grey walked up and leaned against the counter, giving the man a warm smile. He immediately looked up from his typing.

“How may I help you?”

“Yeah, I was hoping to take my wife somewhere nice for dinner. Where would you recommend?”

As expected, the man dug through one of his drawers to pull out a map and a pen, laying the paper out flat on the counter between them.

“That depends. Would you like to stay in the area or head into another part of the city?”

“Nearby is good. I don’t think she’ll want to walk very far in her nice shoes.”

The man nodded and turned back to the map.

“I think I know just the place. It’s about seven blocks away, so not a terrible walk, and it’s right on the river. I haven’t heard a bad thing about it yet. Plus, they’re open late, so you shouldn’t have to worry about the time.”

He immediately bent over the map and marked the establishment’s address, drawing a line along the route Grey would need to get there.

“What do they serve?”

“It’s called Roasters. Their concept is similar to the old roast houses over in Europe. They serve whole roasted chicken along with fish, pork, or beef and they have regular menu items as well. I recommend the chicken, though. It’s my favorite thing on their menu.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Grey didn’t really have any intention of going to this restaurant, but it was best not to drop character. He wasn’t an idiot.

“Would you mind if I got some change from you while I’m here?”

“Absolutely, sir. That won’t be a problem at all.”

Pulling three twenties from the bundle in his wallet, Grey passed them over to the man. While the agency always skimped on accommodations and transportation, they were much more free-handed when it came to spending money. Buying information and contacts didn’t often come cheaply, after all.

“How would you like the change?” the man asked, accepting the money and opening a drawer behind the counter.

“Two tens, four fives, and twenty ones, please.”

He preferred not to use the larger bills at all, but they were good to have on hand just in case. If he was very, very lucky, he’d get a hit with the first person he talked to, but the unlikeliness of that was high. Grey stayed silent as the man counted out his money and handed him back the change. He tucked the new bills into the pocket of his jacket as he gave his thanks.

He grabbed the map and tipped the man, never letting his smile falter. He popped into the commercial coffee shop at the edge of the lobby long enough to place an order and let the concierge lose interest. There was no need to raise suspicion by walking right out. It wouldn’t fit with his story about taking his fictitious wife to dinner. Besides, a hot coffee would be good to keep away the chill of the night air.

Once he was back on the streets, Grey stepped to the side of the crowd and pressed his back against the wall of the building. Even at nearly ten o’clock at night, the foot traffic was alive and bustling. Cars filled the streets and Grey didn’t think they would be disappearing any time soon. Several of the higher-end shops, the jewelry stores in particular, were already closed. The mall next door, though, was still open and had no shortage of customers streaming through its doors.

It took almost no time at all for Grey to spot the scruffy man sitting dejectedly by the walkway’s median like a piece of tossed aside garbage. He had an open coffee cup set in front of him and held a cardboard sign with sharpie writing. Pretty much everyone ignored him except for the occasional individual who dropped some change into the cup. He didn’t even look up at any of them.

Grey pulled out the complimentary bible he’d taken from the motel’s bedside stand and tucked it under his arm as he approached and crouched beside the homeless man. He pulled a dollar free from his pocket and slipped it into the man’s cup.

“Hey.”

His attempt at communication barely even drew forth a grunt from the despondent figure and Grey frowned. He doubted this particular interaction would bear any fruits, but he couldn’t move on until he had at least given it a shot. The homeless were invaluable as informants. They blended into the background and saw far more than most people. They just needed the right motivation to share what they knew.

“Hey, I’m looking to score. You know where I can get something?”

It was better not to specify anything too early, let the man draw his own conclusions. Grey tried to keep his voice loose and easy. It would be too easy to spook someone if they _did_ know something. The homeless man just shook his head and hunched further into himself.

“Not m’thing.”

“Whose thing is it?”

But the man just shook his head again and shuffled a little further away from him. Grey let him. Only a cop would be stupid enough to crowd someone to try and get information. Grey just kept a pleasant smile fixed on his face.

“Come on! I’m good for it! And I’d be willing to pay you for telling me.”

He let his hand inch back towards his pocket where he’d pulled the first bill from, a silent promise. The man just kept shaking his head though, adamant.

“I don’ know nothin’. Don’ ask meh.”

Grey sighed and got to his feet, moving away from the man and farther along the street. His reluctance to talk spoke volumes. No doubt he did know something, but was either too scared to talk about it or had been bribed not to. If that was common in this area, then it was going to be a long night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grey gathers intel on the streets.

Grey learned pretty quick that the homeless of Chicago were not exactly the open and talkative type. He lamented that he couldn’t be in the south. He didn’t know if it was the climate or the culture of the area, but southern deviants from society always seemed much more open to the idea of being helpful. Here, it was like pulling fingernails to even get a full sentence out of one of the crouched and huddled figures.

He’d only encountered a few policemen as he walked the avenue, but none of them had bothered him. One’s eyes had lingered as he moved from homeless to homeless, but the officer had lost his suspicion as soon as he caught sight of the bible under Grey’s arm. It was great how such a simple item could make him invisible to the right eyes.

He spotted a mother who appeared to be in her early thirties with two small children camped out in an alcove between two clothing stores. She didn’t have any shoes on, but a rough blanket was wrapped around her shoulders to keep away the chill. Her hair, if she had any, was shoved up under a weather-beaten beanie proclaiming ‘I Heart Chicago’. One of the children was lying with his head in her lap and she stroked his hair gently, the other curled up against her side. It certainly looked as if both kids were asleep.

Grey approached them with a sigh of resignation, figuring that at this point he really didn’t have much to lose. As he had with all the others, he slipped his bill into the woman’s collection as he crouched down beside the opening. She smiled at him, the first to do so, and glanced at the bible he still held. Her eyes were a bright green, contrasting quite strikingly with her ebony skin.

“Are you a holy man, sir?”

Grey smiled right back at her, happy to finally at least find someone who was willing to talk to him.

“I try and be whatever I need to in order to get my job done.”

“What do you do?”

She was still stroking the little boy’s hair slightly, but her eyes were keen with interest. She was intelligent and she clearly had a will strong enough to see both herself and her children through tough times. Against what was probably his better judgment, Grey slipped on of his fives into her jar.

“I help people who have lost their way. I make sure they find the path they need to be on.”

Her gaze traveled over him in an assessing manner, her hand stilling in the boy’s hair but didn’t leave his head.

“You don’t smell like a cop. Any one o’ them that comes around, you can smell a mile away. And you’re not a priest. Don’t seem like any social worker I’ve ever met.”

She was clearly angling for more information, but Grey wasn’t interested in giving it to her. It would probably be best just to get to the point without giving her anything else to work with. He’d already given her too much of a reason to remember him and when things started to go down, that could very well make all the difference between him getting away to return to the agency and winding up dead.

“I’m looking for dealers in the area, anyone who’s putting product out on the street.”

Those sharp eyes were assessing him again, trying to draw forth the secrets he wasn’t at all interested in letting her discover. Grey almost felt bad for her. If there was one thing he’d learned over the years, it was that curiosity could kill more than just a cat. Out here of the streets, it would serve her even less if she ran afoul the wrong group. He hoped that at least her kids were kept out of it.

Seconds ticked by in silence as they stared at each other. Bright green eyes bore into pale blue, neither backing down. Nearly a minute passed before the child in her lap shifted slightly, drawing her attention back to him. Her hand resumed it’s petting of his hair and she whispered soft reassurances to him. When she looked back up at Grey, it was with determined set to her jaw. She jerked her head towards the direction Grey had already been headed.

“Keep following Rush until you hit Division. Take a left and you should only have to walk a block or two before you find a tavern called Uncle.”

Grey nodded and pulled out his actual wallet, withdrawing several of his twenties to pass over to her. Her fingers wrapped around them immediately, not giving him even a moment to change his mind.

“Who am I looking for?”

“Tell them you want to talk to Mike about applying for a job. Don’t mention anything about a deal until you’ve got him alone. Otherwise you’ll be out of there in two seconds flat.”

He nodded and settled back on his heels. He wasn’t usually one to linger, but something about this woman just struck him as odd.

“How is it you know so much about this?”

She just smiled at him, a toothy grin that revealed two rows of gleaming teeth.

“You didn’t feel like sharing any of your secrets. What makes you think I’m interested in sharing any of mine?”

Her eyes twinkled with mischief and that, more than anything else, told Grey just how dangerous the woman really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has been sticking with this story and leaving your comments! I so, so, SO appreciate it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grey finds the bar and faces some challenges of his own.

It wasn’t too hard to find the bar the homeless woman had told him about. The walk wasn’t far, but it did take him out of the more affluent and trafficked portions of the city.  By the time Grey reached the bar, he was pulling his jacket tight more so he could feel the comforting press of his gun against his back than because of the cold. From the outside, the establishment looked rather like a tattoo parlor than a restaurant, but it was bright and crowded the moment Grey stepped through the doors.

It was warm, too, and the contractor found himself regrettably unwinding the scarf from around his neck as he made his way between the tables and up to the bar. He kept his coat on, though. He didn’t really plan to stay all that long and taking off his coat would mean showing off the piece tucked against the small of his back. That was definitely not something he wanted to do. The bible had been tucked away again, just stuck in the front of his waistband where no one would see it and it wouldn’t be in the way.

The bartender was a young guy, blonde but in a way that looked dyed instead of natural. He wore electric blue eyeliner and had nails painted black to match the leather of his spikey bracelets. Grey wasn’t sure if he was gay or just goth, but he smiled anyway as he leaned against the bar.

“Hey, I’m here to see Mike about a job.”

The bartender looked him over really quick before motioning him to wait and dipping behind a curtain into what Grey could only assume was the back. Funny. He’d always thought bartenders needed more people skills. The man was back in less than a minute.

“He’s in the middle of something. Do you have time to wait? It won’t be quick.”

Grey considered it for a moment before nodding. Danny wouldn’t be expecting him back anytime soon.

“Sure.”

The bartender shrugged and gave a nod.

“You want something to drink?”

“Yeah, sure. Something in a bottle. I’m not picky about what.”

Someone there to buy drugs wouldn’t be interested in appearances for a job interview and a cop wouldn’t dare order a drink while on the job. The best thing about the Agency was that they didn’t really care what a security contract operative’s methods were so long as they got the job done and they did it quietly. Nothing else mattered.

The bartender pulled some name-brand beer out from the reach-in cooler under the counter and went to open it but Grey waved him off, pulling a lighter out of his pocket.

“Don’t worry. I got it.”

The man shrugged and passed the bottle across the bar for Grey to open before turning away and going back to his other customers. The killer popped the top and took a swig as he slipped the lighter back into his pocket. He fiddled with the bottle cap on the countertop as he surveyed the room.

There seemed to be a whole assortment of people scattered about. There seemed to be no age, race, or societal barriers within the bar. A group of construction workers drank and laughed at a table right next to a couple in their late fifties that seemed to be on a date. A few clusters of younger, college age kids were scattered about as well. It was definitely a neighborhood joint.

He took another swig of his beer in a way that looked absentminded but was carefully calculated. If he was drinking, he would have to monitor his intake closely. It wasn’t so much that he was a light-weight. It was just that, as inhibitions dropped, less desirable parts of his personality came to the forefront.

 Grey sat at the counter and drank for about an hour. He tried to pace himself, but with no distractions and nothing else to do, he still made it through one bottle and was on his second by the time a man he could only assume was Mike came out of the back. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, moderately tall with dark hair and just the hint of a beard. He wore a black chef’s coat with a white apron that had a bit of food splashed across it. Occupational hazard, Grey supposed. The only thing Grey got splashed with on a semi-regular basis was blood.

“You’re here about the job opening?”

Grey grinned and stood. He immediately felt the rush of alcohol hit him. It probably would have been better if he’d eaten sometime since noon.

“Yeah. Heard about it from a friend and was hoping it was still available.”

“Sure, sure. Follow me. Have you ever working in a kitchen before?”

Grey followed him around the counter and through another door marked ‘Employees Only’. It lead to a short hallway with an office door on one side, the open entry to a storage room on the other, and another door at the end which looked like it lead into the back alley. The door was propped open and Grey could see an employee taking a smoke break, barely even glancing their way.

“Once. A few years ago.”

It’d been in Russia. Great country. Not a single cook had even looked up when he’d strolled into the kitchen and shot their boss between the eyes.

“Good. I like that you’ve got some experience.”

He unlocked the door to the office and held it open so Grey could step inside. He took a seat in front of the simple desk while the chef moved around to sit in the chair behind it. The man continued to smile at him easily and it was starting to tick Grey off. He took another swig of his beer to distract himself. He needed to stay clear of negative emotions.

“I have to admit, you don’t really look like you’re dressed for an interview. Were you just in the area and decided to drop by?”

Grey shifted in his seat, leaning into the back of the chair to feel the familiar shape of his 9mm pressed into his flesh. It reassured him to know it was there, to know it was within such easy reach. It would be a simple matter to pull it out and splatter this man's brains all across the office. One less drug dealer to clutter up the streets. But no. He needed the information that this man had. If he killed him now, it would just be a waste of all the effort he’d already put in. Plus Danny would be mad at him.

“Something like that. I’m just in town for business and a friend of mine said this was the place to go if I wanted a little something to relax.”

He smiled at the man then, years of practice letting him paint on a face even when all he wanted to do was erase the man before him from existence. Perhaps he could come back and kill him once this operation was over, or at least have him picked up by the police. Grey took another swig of his beer while the man studied him for a moment.

“Your friend got a name?”

Grey almost laughed, instead just snorting into the bottle as he lowered it.

“No. Do _you_ go around handing out your friends’ names to anyone who asks?”

Instead of responding, Mike just nodded slowly, looking thoughtful. Then he slapped the desk, seeming to come to a decision.

“Yeah, alright. What are you looking for? I’ve got most everything. Variety is my specialty.”

Grey grinned, this time for real. This man might be the scum of society, but he was a stepping stone to get Grey where he really wanted to be.

“You got ‘scripts?”

“Sure. You looking for pain pills? I’ve got Hydrocodone in 500 milligram tablets. I can cut you a good price. Usually sell for five a piece, but I’ll give ‘em to you for four.”

Grey’s eyebrows twitched, trying to shoot up before he got a hold of his own surprise. It was startling to actually hear a reasonable price from a dealer to a first time client. Most of the time, first time clientele had to pay a fee just to prove they were serious about getting the product.

“For that price, absolutely. Gimme 20, if you got ‘em.”

The man nodded and moved to unlock a drawer in the desk, pulling out a small baggie of white tablets and counting out the desired number. Grey reached for his wallet and pulled out $80 for the exchange.

“How long are you going to be in town for? I don’t mean to pry, but this seems like a bit much for a short trip.”

“A few weeks, at least. I’m here till the deal closes for work. If I need more, can I find you here?”

Mike shook his head and grabbed a post-it note out of the same desk drawer. He scribbled an address on it before passing it over to Grey along with the pills. He slipped the money right into his pocket.

“I’m not a big fan of repeat customers around here. It’s bad for the other side of the business, you understand. Go to that address and give them my name. It’s by the bridge museum, it’ll be easy to find. They’ll sell you what you need.”

Now that he’d given Grey the next piece of the puzzle, it was all the more tempting to kill the man straight out, but Grey tamped down on the feeling. The bartender knew he was back here. If Mike was found dead, he’d be the first one suspected. No, he couldn’t kill him… but that didn’t make the incessant itch beneath his skin any easier to ignore.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grey makes a bad decision.

Grey had taken one of the pain pills. He shouldn’t have done it, _absolutely_ shouldn’t have done it. He blamed his cover, someone buying drugs wouldn’t really have a problem with going ahead and taking them, but that wasn’t the truth. The alcohol had already been clouding his judgment and he wanted just a bit more of the exciting ‘ _zing_ ’ that ran through his veins, the release of control and inhibitions. It was in his nature. He craved it.

He downed the last of his beer before leaving the bar. His jacket had felt stifling inside the warm establishment, and the cool evening air felt good against his skin. He grinned as a light breeze drifted by.

Turning back the way he’d come, Grey set a brisk pace, both energized and uplifted by the chemicals coursing through his system. The pill was only just starting to kick in but he could feel it enough for a huge grin to stretch across his face. Oh, Danny was going to kill him when he found out.

But Grey had been good, hadn’t he? He hadn’t killed the drug dealer, Mike. He hadn’t even roughed him up a bit. Grey hadn’t drawn attention to himself or their assignment in any way. By the end of it, even the moody bartender hadn’t seemed quite so unfriendly. Maybe that part was thanks to the drugs, though. Grey probably shouldn’t mention that part.

He did need to get back, though. Even through the beginnings of his high, Grey knew taking the pill with alcohol could have very bad consequences. He had _compulsions_ , of course he did. All of the Agency’s contractors did. But his became a lot stronger once he was under the influence of another substance.

He stumbled a bit as a woman knocked into him on the street, just some tourist or uptown lady too busy to watch where she was going. She threw the barest hint of an apology over her shoulder as she hurried on her way. Grey kind of hated her.

Nobody had any respect anymore, any decency. How sad was that? No one took a moment to talk to the people around them. They were so obsessed with their own issues that they couldn’t take a look at the bigger picture. If they couldn’t even _look_ at those around them, how could they care for other people? It was all about technology, social media, and fad after pointless fad. He found it all disgusting.

Briefly, he was struck by the thought of whether or not the same issue would bother him as much if he were sober. Probably not. It didn’t matter, though. He wasn’t sober and it _did_ bother him.

The itch beneath his skin was becoming a slow burn, a need to put an end to one of the useless creatures that were strolling the streets. His fingers twitched with the desire to wrap around someone’s throat, or to hold the blade of a knife and slip it between someone’s ribs. Maybe he could keep it simple, just pull a trigger.

But it needed to be a bad person, someone who’d done something, hurt someone. Grey didn’t kill innocents. That wasn’t his style. More importantly, they weren’t his type. Grey liked being able to look into his victims’ eyes and know that they deserved it. More over, he wanted _them_ to know that they deserved it, that they’d earned the grisly end they met at his hand.

A shiver ran up his spine at just the thought, pleasure rushing through him. They all had different reactions, the ones he’d killed. Several hadn’t seen it coming in the slightest, which was really just such a shame. How was he supposed to savor their death if they didn’t know beforehand that they were going to die? He preferred to kill those who knew it was coming… and _why_.

He still remembered his first like it was yesterday. It’d been years ago and he’d killed plenty more since then. It hadn’t even been on purpose. He’d been so young and the man who’d attacked him clearly hadn’t expected him to fight back quite as hard as he did. Grey had pushed him, causing the man to fall back and crack his head open.

If he closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers together, Grey could still feel the tackiness of the man’s blood on his hands. He hadn’t been able to resist touching it. The vibrant red color had just called to him, drawing him in until he couldn’t see anything else. The police had thought he was traumatized, but he’d never felt more alive. Some days he wished he could just go back to that moment and relive it again and again.

He’d killed so many since that day, but none could compare to that first time. Each death was like a beautiful work of art. He poured his heart into it, if he had such a thing. But there was always just some tiny piece missing, some small element he couldn’t get right. One upside of working for the Agency, he supposed, was that he had plenty of freedom to experiment. He’d get it right eventually and he’d get to experience that sweet bliss once more.

Grey shook his head roughly to rid himself of his thoughts. This was why it was so dangerous for him to become inebriated. It made him remember, made his dwell, and it was usually best if he didn’t. The mental images were just so clear. It was all he could do not to give into to his basest instincts.

He wanted to turn around.

He wanted to go back to the bar.

He wanted to kill that man.

Grey frowned down at his shoes as he kept walking, resolute and unyielding in the face of his desires. Part of his deal with the Agency was that he could not kill outside of the parameters of his assignments. If he did and he got caught (and he would, the Agency watched them so closely) then he went straight to prison, a government run facility where he would be fast-tracked to his execution. It wouldn’t be some cushy state or federal institution with Last Rights and a final meal of his choosing. It would be fast, clean, and efficient. He’d probably just get a bullet to the back of the head. Why waste the money on a lethal injection?

In a way, he had more respect for the Agency’s method than he did for the Justice System’s. Sure, it was probably more humane to make a felon comfortable in their final days, but they certainly didn’t deserve it. The acts of comfort weren’t even for them, anyway, they were to show the general public how nice and caring the government could be. Grey felt like they were wasting their caring on those unworthy of it.

He grit his teeth and growled in frustration, cutting down the street between the mall and the hotel where he’d gotten the map. It wouldn’t be long before he was back at the motel where he was staying with Danny. That would be good. He could get a handle on himself there.

Part of him was hoping, though, almost praying to a God he didn’t believe in, that he would somehow stumble upon some poor sap in those last few blocks. He’d take a mugging, a carjacking, even a shop lifter. He just needed to _kill someone_.

But apparently the off-streets grew even more dead as the hour approached midnight. He didn’t encounter a soul in the last portion of his trek. His path was deserted of even the innocents who held no interest to him.

Inside the room, one of the bedside lamps continued to burn, a soft glow in the dark space. Danny lay facing away from the light, ever so slightly curled into himself. His bacon pillow was tucked under his head and he clutched the other one to his chest. Danny always had to be holding something when he slept, no matter how much he denied it.

His face looked peaceful in sleep, the huge smile and buzzing energy replaced by a calm, serene look. He was a good partner, a great match especially for someone like Grey. The killer just _looked_ dangerous. His lean muscles spoke of power and dominance in a way that put people on edge. Danny, though, put people at ease with his young face and easy smile. It was such a perfect disguise.

Grey knew the other side of him though, the side the young man didn’t like for others to see. Danny had killed plenty of times on their various assignments. The two of them had a silent agreement that Grey would be the one doing most of the killing, it was, after all, his job, but that didn’t mean Danny stayed completely out of it. There were situations that arose where he had to act.

Grey had once seen Danny strangle a man twice his size with a string of piano wire. The killer himself had just finished off two other targets but had instantly felt the burning sensation in the pit of his stomach to do it again. It was the first time he’d realized that watching someone else kill could intensify his desires.

As he stood over his partner’s bed, watching him sleep, Grey couldn’t get the image out his head. Danny had done bad things, too. Just like the others. He’d done them for good reasons, but that didn’t change the act. Grey’s hands started twitching again and he quickly shoved them into the pockets of his jacket.

Danny wasn’t like the others. That was a bad thought. He shouldn’t let his mind wander in that direction. It wasn’t like Danny enjoyed what he did. He did it because it was necessary. That was all. Right? Just because he was happy all the time didn’t mean he enjoyed the bad things he did. Surely Danny didn’t deserve what Grey did to the other filth of society… did he?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grey and Danny the morning after...

Danny stared blankly down at the breakfast plate Grey had gotten him. His hair was still mussed from sleep and he blinked a few times before looking up and squinting at his partner, a frown fixed on his face.

“You thought about killing me again last night, didn’t you?”

Grey didn’t answer, instead focusing on his own breakfast. It wasn’t anything fancy, just something from the fast food place down the street. He heard Danny sigh and fought down the urge to cringe. He was angrier at himself than anything else. He’d been stupid and he had no one but himself to blame. There’d been no reason for him to take that pill and it had almost ended disastrously. He heard Danny setting aside the plate.

“We really should talk about this, you know.”

Grey snorted, but there was no amusement in it.

“I thought men didn’t talk about their feelings.”

The edge of Danny’s mouth twitched upwards in an almost smile and Grey counted that as a bit of a win. He didn’t deserve Danny’s smiles, but he was selfish and if he only got what he deserved then he’d have been killed when the Agency found him instead of recruited.

“Real men aren’t scared of their own emotions, Charles.”

Grey hated being called by his first name, but he didn’t say anything. Danny already knew and was using it to put him off balance. There was no need to give in and let it work. But his partner did deserve something as an apology, he supposed, and a fast food breakfast really didn’t cut it. He settled back to sit on his own bed, taking a bite of his breakfast sandwich to buy him time before he had to speak.

“I should have been able to control the urge. I was foolish and you nearly paid for it with your life.”

Really, it was best just to get this over with. He knew that look in Danny’s eye and knew he wouldn’t let it go until they’d actually had a God awful conversation about it.

“You’re a psychopath, Grey, not a sociopath. Control isn’t exactly what you’re known for but, considering I’m still alive, I’d say you did a pretty decent job.”

Grey grit his teeth in frustration. How could Danny say that? How could he just act like Grey had actually achieved something instead of failing? It wasn’t right. He didn’t _understand_.

“Control was part of the deal. The Agency isn’t going to let this keep happening.”

Actually, with the amount of times Danny had woken up to an apology breakfast during their partnership, Grey was surprised the Agency had let it go on as long as they had. They weren’t exactly known for their leniency and tolerance. When working with known killers, there were no second chances. Danny just shrugged and his eyes slid over to the ashtray sitting on the bedside table that contained the remains of about half a pack of cigarettes.

“It looks like you’ve been stressing out about this plenty enough on your own.”

Grey shrugged.

“I smoked them outside. I didn’t want to wake you.”

Danny sighed and flopped back onto his bed, pulling his bacon pillow close to his chest and resting his head on top of it. The serious gaze he leveled at Grey was somewhat put off by his arrangement.

“ADIS doesn’t need to know. My reports are supposed to be about the assignment. Any other information is irrelevant.”

“ _Irrelevan-_ “ Grey cut himself off as he surged to his feet. He found himself suddenly pacing, body brimming with tension and energy. “I could have _killed_ you, Danny!”

He knew he was lashing out, but he couldn’t help it. Didn’t Danny get it? This wasn’t some small mistake. This was serious. Danny didn’t look at all amused by Grey’s raised voice and was quickly on his feet as well, scowl fixed firmly on his face.

“Yeah, Grey, you could have. But you _didn’t_ and I think that’s a bit more of the point here! Sure, you think about killing me sometimes, but you’re a _killer_. That’s what you _do_!”

“Exactly. It _is_ what I do. And one of these days the person I kill is going to end up being you, Danny. And then where would you be? Oh, yeah. _Dead_.”

Danny rolled his eyes in a way that made him look like a petulant teenager. It did nothing but piss Grey off even more.

“I think you’re being a bit over dramatic.”

“And I think you aren’t taking this nearly as seriously as you should be.”

The younger man just shook his head like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Look. You want me to be serious? Let’s be serious.” He nailed Grey down with a hard glare. “I care a Hell of a lot more about what you _do_ than what you _think_. How many times have you saved my life since we became partners?”

Grey nearly growled in frustration.

“Danny, that doesn’t even _begin_ to balance things out!”

“Yes, it does! Don’t you get it? Every once in a while, when the urge gets too strong and you’re not in complete control of yourself, you think about what it would be like to kill me. But, Grey, you never, _ever_ do it. What you _have_ done, _repeatedly_ , is jump in the way of danger to save my life. You took a bullet for me in Norway, remember?”

Grey gave a grunt of acknowledgement, but refused to allow himself to participate any further in Danny’s illusions.

“You didn’t have to do that. Hell, you didn’t even realize you _were_ doing it until after you’d moved. Remember what you told me when I was cutting you open and digging the bullet out? You said you’d lost enough people in your life. You weren’t losing me, too. And then you asked me how you wound up with a bullet in your stomach.”

“I was suffering from severe blood loss and had almost no idea what was going on! I also asked you how the Pope got there.”

“Admittedly, I’m still not sure what you meant by that. But the point is that you moved before you even consciously realized that there was danger. Your _instincts_ told you that I was important and that you needed to protect me. As much as I’m not a fan of being the damsel in distress in this scenario, I think that shows a lot about who you really are. If you said you fantasized about killing random people on the street, I might be concerned, but you don’t. I’m around you more than anyone else, Grey, you’re bound to think about killing me sometimes.”

“But you don’t think I’ll do it.”

Danny smiled, relaxing a bit in the face of Grey’s stunned bewilderment.

“No. I don’t. If you were going to kill me, you’d have done it by now. Face it, big guy. Not even you can resist my lovable demeanor.”

Grey wanted to be mad. He did, but all he could focus on was how all of the pieces were starting to fall into place. How could he have not noticed earlier? It suddenly made every bit of sense why the Agency hadn’t yet taken issue with his homicidal thoughts towards his partner.

“You haven’t been telling them…”

“Hmm?”

Danny tried to act confused, but Grey wasn’t buying it for a second. Danny knew exactly what he was talking about.

“You haven’t mentioned this in any of your reports, have you? You’ve been keeping them in the dark about the danger that I put you in just by _being here_.”

Knowing he was caught, Danny gave up the ignorant act in favor of nonchalance. It really only served to piss Grey off more, but Danny had always been the one who could rile him up more than anyone else and his partner was also the only one who could calm him down. Danny always knew what needed to be said.

“It’s the Agency of Domestic and International Security. Anything that needs an acronym just so you can say it in casual conversation is too full of administration and pencil pushers to be trusted. They don’t know what it’s like out here. They don’t know you and I’m sure as Hell not handing your life over to some guy who does nothing but sit behind a desk all day.”

Grey could only stare at him as the silence stretched between them. Finally a small smile broke out across his lips and he had to hang his head to hide the expression. He didn’t think it worked. Danny knew all his tells.

“Thank you.”

He could practically hear the smile in Danny’s voice.

“Hey, what are partners for? Now hurry up and get ready. You promised me a tour and it starts in an hour. I’m not interested in being late just because you’re feeling sorry for yourself.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grey and Danny take a tour.

The tour was practically torture.

Danny seemed to be enjoying himself just fine, of course. He loved the whole gimmick that the tour guides had going, acting as though they were actually gangsters from the 20’s or 30’s. They even had the pin striped suits and fedoras. Once everyone was on the bus the driver even whipped out a fake revolver during his opening spiel. Grey honestly wondered if it was too late to get off.

He knew, though, that being a grouch and acting too disinterested would only make him more memorable, so he played along and ducked down in his seat as instructed when the recording of machine gun fire played over the bus’s speaker system. It didn’t stop him, however, from glaring balefully at Danny while they had their heads down. He _had_ to pick a tour that required participation.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” he hissed.

Danny just beamed happily back at him as they righted themselves and continued on with the tour. The guide was telling them about some gangster who’d had a side business of a very successful flower shop.

“I think it’s fun. Just go with it, Grey.”

So Grey did. He kept his mouth shut and took note of the places they visited and what they actually were now. There was a club that looked promising, along with a brewery, but that was about it. The portion of Chicago that used to be Little Italy and apparently still had some really good ethnic restaurants intermingled with artsy little shops was the only place still populated that wasn’t residential.

It was honestly a bit surprising how many old gangster hangouts had been destroyed for one reason or another. Time, Grey supposed, changed all things. What had once been some of Chicago’s most popular nightspots were now little more than parking lots or cheap, low-end strip malls. It was kind of a shame, really. Even one of the original hotels where Al Capone apparently held a three-day party and tipped the piano player over $1,000 had been bought out by some big chain.

Still, the locations could be of importance so Grey took note of them. He would do more research back at the motel, with Danny’s computer. The more he knew about each location, the better. He loved Google. It made his life so much easier.

By the time the tour had wrapped up and dropped them off back at the starting point, Grey had managed to drift into his own bit of headspace. He was busy calculating and organizing information, prioritizing what needed to be done first. With his mind so otherwise occupied, he followed Danny for more blocks than he should have before he realized they weren’t headed in the right direction.

He paused, frowning as he looked at the unfamiliar surroundings. His sudden stop made Danny turn back to shoot him a questioning gaze.

“This is not the way to our motel.”

Danny rolled his eyes and turned back around, forcing Grey to follow him if he didn’t want to get left behind. Considering Grey didn’t actually currently know where they were, he elected to stay with his partner. He could find his way back if he needed to, but it would probably just be easier to stick around and get this over with. There was no telling was idea Danny had gotten in his head.

“Of course not. Our motel doesn’t have Garrett’s. I told you this already.”

“When? And what the Hell is Garrett’s?”

The sideways glance Danny shot him held all the information Grey needed to understand that Danny had taken advantage of his distracted state. It wasn’t anything new. It usually happened at least once an assignment despite Grey’s best efforts. Considering that he wasn’t at the top of his game after staying up all night, he shouldn’t have been surprised that his guard dropped.

“Earlier, after we got off the bus. You grunted in agreement. And Garrett’s is a popcorn shop. _The_ popcorn shop, really. They do a bunch of different flavors.”

“And I’m guessing that they’re some tourist thing that you just can’t seem to resist, aren’t they?”

Danny laughed at his slightly irritated tone and Grey supposed he couldn’t blame him. If Danny spaced out all the time, Grey wouldn’t have a problem using it against him, either. They spent several long minutes in silence. It was companionable despite their quasi-argument and that was one of the things Grey valued most about their partnership.

He and Danny were not similar. In fact, it would be hard for their personalities to be more different. They understood each other, though, and that made all the difference in the world. They always knew the other had their back, no matter what the situation was. They were partners.

“So did you find anything while you were out last night?”

It was the first Danny had asked about it, and a small smile found its way onto Grey’s face. The younger man could say he didn’t mind the homicidal thoughts all he wanted, but it still had to be unsettling. Grey was glad he’d managed to settle himself enough to turn his mind back to their assignment.

“I met up with a dealer that gave me a contact further in the community. I’ll probably head out again tonight to see what I can find there.”

Danny nodded a bit before running a critical eye over Grey’s appearance.

“Maybe you should wait. You’re getting too old to keep pulling all-nighters like this.”

Grey shot him a glare that was returned with a cheeky grin. Grey was barely 34, not nearly old enough for Danny to make as many cracks about his age as he did. Danny was only 32 himself. He had no room to talk. Still, rising to the bait would only encourage the brat.

“The assignment comes first. I can sleep once it’s done.”

Danny let out an exasperated sigh and threw his hands up in mock irritation. It was a song and dance they’d played many times before. Grey had known how it would end before he’d even opened his mouth to voice his plan.

“At least let me come with you. When you fall asleep on the job, you should have someone around to watch your back.”

Grey bumped their shoulders together mid-stride, causing Danny to stumble. He laughed at the petulant glare he got for it.

“More like someone to get in the way.”

But they both knew that was a yes, that Grey appreciated the offer as well as the company. There were some things that needed to be taken care of alone, but there were others that were best done with a partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be trying to post this more often to catch up with everything I've written for it. I'm sure you all won't mind!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Danny is much better with children than Grey.

Grey had to admit, the popcorn was actually pretty good. He and Danny walked back towards their motel, munching from their respective bags along the way. He’d gotten the classic Chicago blend of cheddar and caramel, though apparently it couldn’t be called that anymore since some out-of-state company had trademarked the name.

Danny, since he couldn’t make up his mind, had gotten a little bit of everything. This meant, of course, that his bag of popcorn was a little bit like a box of Every Flavored Beans. You never knew whether you were going to get chocolate, watermelon, or cheddar and bacon. Any one of those flavors sounded just fine on its own but Grey couldn’t imagine that they could be good all mixed together like that.

They weren’t talking about the mission. It would be too dangerous to go into detail while on the streets. The chances of someone overhearing the wrong thing at the wrong moment were too high. Instead, Grey listened quietly as Danny rambled on about some building that used to be the tallest in the world and apparently had glass boxes attached to the side that you could walk out into.

The killer was only half paying attention as he gazed at the city around him. He liked the feel of it, honestly. It felt every bit like a big city but still had the air of a small town. It was peaceful, despite what Grey knew was happening in its underbelly. He entertained a thought, for a brief moment, that he would enjoy living somewhere like this. It was too cold, but he could deal with that. Probably.

He was brought back to himself as Danny stepped away from him, towards the mouth of an alley. Grey was instantly on alert for danger, but it was just a couple of kids who couldn’t have been more than twelve at the most huddled against the wall with a jar out in front of them. Danny dropped a few bills in the jar before pulling his backpack off and rummaging through it for one of the extra bags of popcorn he’d bought at the store. The girl snatched it greedily from his hands while the boy watched suspiciously. He had short hair, threadbare clothes, and eyes so dark they were nearly black. Grey thought he looked oddly familiar.

“Where’s your mother?”

The boy’s eyes snapped up to meet the killers, and they didn’t flinch for a moment.

“Who’s askin’?”

The girl laughed in a way that was two parts bitter and one part hysterical. No wonder her brother was trying to look after her. No one got a laugh like that without having been through some bad things first.

“If he’s looking for mom, he’s gotta be a john!”

And then she was off again, laughing at a joke only she found funny. If Grey looked closely, he could see a bruise under the dark skin of her face. Had that come from a stranger or someone she knew?

He grabbed hold of Danny’s jacket and pulled with just enough force to get him moving. The agent kept sending worried glances back towards the kids and questioning ones at his partner. Grey was surprised he managed to keep his curiosity to himself for three whole blocks.

“So, there something you want to tell me?”

His tone was casual, but Grey could hear the steel underneath. This wasn’t a request. It was an order. Danny hated giving him orders almost as much as he hated seeing kids get hurt. Apparently he’d seen the bruise on the girl’s face, too.

“I think I ran into them last night. The girl I’m not so sure about, but the boy, definitely. They were with a woman who told me where to find the dealer.”

Danny nodded a bit, eyebrows pulled together in concentration.

“A streetwalker? I thought you usually liked to avoid those.”

It was true. Their constant come-ons and propositions made Grey uncomfortable. He didn’t like physical contact to begin with and that was pretty much what they specialized in.

“She didn’t seem like one. She was just out collecting.”

Danny frowned.

“And you think there’s something weird about it.”

Grey shrugged, not really sure how to explain himself.

“There’s just something that doesn’t feel right. The woman I met cared about those kids.”

“Maybe they’re not the same kids. It was dark. Maybe you got it wrong.”

Grey could tell by his tone that not even Danny believed that. He shook his head to clear it of the unsettling thoughts.

“It doesn’t matter either way. It’s not part of the assignment, not our business.”

He thought he sounded about as believable as his partner had, but Danny refrained from mentioning it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny and Grey, moving things right along

It took them about 30 minutes to make it back to the motel. Danny immediately pulled out his computer and handed it off to Grey, knowing without having to be asked that he needed it. Grey settled back against the headboard of his bed and booted the device up, entering Danny’s passwords without a moment of hesitation.

“So what are you thinking is of interest? I’d say the hotel, for sure.”

Grey glanced at his partner and raised an eyebrow in a silent request for him to continue.

“It’s a historic place, of course, but it wasn’t associated with any major murders. It’s all about gangster celebration and that sort of thing. I’d be much more interested in that than hanging out where some old boss got shot up. Plus, less tourists poking their noses into places they shouldn’t be.”

Grey huffed a laugh at that.

“Like you, you mean?”

Danny grinned at his teasing tone.

“Exactly! And look what happens when I find the bad guys.”

That got him a hum of agreement, but no really response. Instead, Grey turned back to finding his information.

“The traffic flow in a hotel will make it harder to spot that something’s going on, of course. You remember that place in New Zealand, right?”

Danny groaned.

“I _hate_ New Zealand!”

Grey smirked.

“I’m putting in a formal request to the Agency for any information they have on that, the club we passed, the brewery, and Little Italy.”

“You need my code?”

“38629. I’m just letting you know in case they ask you for more information.”

Danny nodded and switched lounging positions on his bed, trying to find something comfortable. He had his phone out and was typing away at it.

“Where did you find that dealer from last night? Do you have a street name for him?”

“The name was Mike. He worked as a chef at a bar called Uncle’s.”

Danny paused in his typing, glancing over at Grey.

“And it was the woman with the kids who sent you there?”

Grey blinked, suddenly realizing the connection that his partner was making.

“You think she’s connected.”

“How many people did you talk to before she sent you in the right direction?”

“Plenty enough.”

He didn’t like where this was headed. He usually wasn’t the type to close his eyes to a possibility, but somehow he didn’t want to believe that what Danny was suggesting was the truth. It seemed wrong, off. He just couldn’t explain why.

“She could be working for them, sending people who are interested to them in exchange for a fee. It’d be a good way to make some extra money.”

Danny was back to typing, putting what information they knew about the dealer into a database to see what else they could find out. Grey was still mulling over the idea that the woman he had met could have been involved in something deeper.

“We’ll see what comes up,” he acquiesced. There was no reason to get stubborn over something he couldn’t be sure of one way or the other. Better to get all the facts and figure it out later. If she was involved, she’d show up again. Otherwise, there was no reason to seek her out.

“Where did you find her last night?”

Apparently his partner had other ideas, though. Grey had to restrain a scowl and kept his gaze fixed firmly on the computer screen in front of him. He couldn’t even explain why he didn’t want to go after her, there was honestly not a single excuse to justify it.  If she was dangerous in some way, it would be better to know ahead of time. Grey hated surprises in the middle of a job.

“On the main strip. I’ll take you there when we go out later.”

With that decided, they each turned back to their own tasks. Until they heard back from the Agency, who had access to government databases with all sorts of information, Grey would have to stick to Google to find out what he needed to know. He started with police records for the entire city, trying to get a feel for which areas catered to the type that he was trying to catch.

Most crime levels, of course, went hand in hand across the different spectrums. If there was an area with a high murder rate, it would also likely have a high rate of drug arrests, vandalism, and theft. It was easy enough to just assume the portion of the city with the highest crime rate was the one he wanted to go to, but that would be a mistake. It was one he’d made several times after being hired by the Agency and it never ceased to make his life more difficult.

The key to it all was to find the _right_ kind of crime and then follow the trail from there. Typing Rocky Hutchinson’s name into a search engine brought up his mug shot as the first result right along with his arrest record. Grey had all the same information in the file the Agency had given them, but he liked to dig up his own info just to double check. The Agency didn’t generally get it wrong, but the inconsistencies of what was released to the public could be startling.

Grey separated Rocky’s crimes in New York from his crimes in Chicago. Statistically speaking, most criminals who committed crimes did so in the area they were most familiar with. Criminologists called it a Comfort Zone, but Grey had never cared much about terminology. It made things more convenient, though, that his victims often operated so close to their own home.

Most of Rocky’s activity appeared to be in the Wicker Park neighborhood of Chicago. Grey didn’t know much about it, but a quick search revealed it to be an up and coming, artsy area. Outside of the city proper, it provided a much more small-town feel for a big city area. It was only about ten minutes away by train.

The area was populated mostly by college age students and immigrants from Eastern Europe. There were a few new families and a spattering of couples who’d lived there all their lives and had watched the community build from the ground up. It was an eclectic mix that probably lent heavily to the diversity of the area. It also gave Rocky’s organization plenty of clients to pull from.

While drugs seemed to take up the bulk of his business and was how it all got started, they were by no means the only sector of the underworld that Rocky was a part of. Anytime a person or group began to rise within the ranks of the underground, they were bound to branch out and expand their business. The Agency had already managed to tie Rocky to both a prostitution ring and providing fake documents. They suspected him of being a silent partner in several chop shops around the city, but hadn’t been able to say for sure one way or the other.

Grey supposed it didn’t really matter in the end. Grey was going to kill the man anyway and that would be the end of that. If he was involved with the other shops, they’d take a hit and either crumble or figure out how to survive. If Rocky wasn’t involved then they wouldn’t be affected. Grey’s assignment was for Rocky and not the shops. They weren’t the type of crime that got his fire going.

For all his sense of justice, Grey wasn’t all that caught up on the thought of large crime organizations. He wasn’t bothered by a Columbian drug cartel just because they made and trafficked drugs…but he would joyously tear their leader limb from limb for beating his wife or being involved in a drive-by shooting. For Grey, it was all about the more personal crimes.

That was why the Agency had given him Rocky, after all. He was violent in his own right, far more ruthless to those he knew personally than to strangers who’d crossed him in business. Those he simply killed. The ones he knew personally, who had done him no wrong, were the ones who suffered injury and humiliation at his hands. They were the ones he chose to take his sickness out on.

“Find something interesting? You’ve got that look in your eye like you’re about to rip someone’s throat out and drink their blood.”

Grey jerked at the sound of Danny’s voice cutting through the silence of the room. He’d been too deep in his own thoughts, too caught up in himself to pay attention to his surroundings. He rolled his eyes in an attempt to cover for his distraction.

“You and I both know I’ve never been into that.”

Danny grinned at him from the other bed.

“There’s a first time for everything. Maybe you might like it.”

Grey briefly wondered how his handler had made it through the Agency’s psych eval as he closed the computer and set it aside.

“Come on. We’ve still got plenty of the day left and we need to pick up some train tickets.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Danny is Danny and Grey gets exactly what he deserves.

They picked up transit cards at the corner convenience store and loaded them up with enough money that they wouldn’t have to worry about running out at an inconvenient time. They’d learned their lesson with that back in Atlanta. Grey had ended up jumping the turnstile and catching their target while avoiding underpaid and inexperienced security personnel. It hadn’t been disastrous, but it had certainly been annoying.

Grey had to admit that he liked the station entrances in Chicago. The stairs leading down under the streets had vaulted covers that obviously had been put in with aesthetics in mind. The station itself was all grey and white tiles with steel stiles and bars to block movement. There wasn’t anything special about it, but it certainly seemed cleaner than most subways he’d been in.

The train itself was populated to the point that both Danny and Grey had to stand along with a handful of other passengers, but not so much so that the occupants of the car had to press against each other. That was good. It was always a bit awkward when someone first realized they were pressed up against the gun shoved in Grey’s waistband. They tried to avoid traveling at busy hours for just that very reason, not to mention that being so close to people made Grey uncomfortable.

When the train pulled into the Wicker Park station, Grey slipped out of the car and waited on the platform for the few seconds it took Danny to join him. It wasn’t long before they found themselves on the street, wandering about aimlessly as they took in the layout. The streets branched out in an almost spider webbed pattern.

Bars and clothing stores clearly took dominance, but there were also a number of cafes scattered throughout. The shopping area was surrounded by residential townhouses with commercial shops on the other side. Grey and Danny walked the streets for a couple hours just to make sure they had a good understanding of how everything connected. They were just passing the sole ice cream store for the third time when Danny grabbed his arm and yanked him inside.

“I’ll be quick! I promise!”

Grey was clenching and unclenching his hands to try and regain some of the feeling in them. The store wasn’t that much warmer than the temperature outside, but at least it didn’t have the added wind to make it cut right through his jacket. He shot Danny a baleful glare that went completely ignored as the younger man moved further into the store.

“How can you want ice cream in this weather?”

“I looked it up on my phone while we were walking. This place is supposed to be _awesome_.”

“Doesn’t make it any less cold,” Grey grumbled.

There was a young couple eating at a table in the front of the shop and an older gentleman by himself not far away. Other that those three and the woman behind the counter that ran along one wall, Grey and Danny were alone. The woman smiled at them in greeting but continued to clean the counter as they looked over the menu.

It was possibly the oddest ice cream parlor Grey had ever been in. There were no buckets of flavors, no glass case from which to make selections, there was just the board that instructed them to choose a base flavor, additives, and toppings off of the provided lists. Four mixing machines hooked up to various pipes sat behind a glass partition at the end of the counter. Danny was grinning like a mad man.

“They make everything to order and freeze it using liquid nitrogen! Seriously, Grey, how cool is that?”

Grey thought it still didn’t justify eating ice cream when the temperature outside was threatening to hit the mid-thirties.  Saying that, though, wouldn’t get him out of the shop any faster so he just shrugged his shoulders and tried to enjoy the break from the wind while he could.

Danny seemed to know that was as a good a response as he was going to get and turned instead to the woman behind the counter. She dropped her towel and headed over to stand behind the register, customer service smile fixed firmly in place.

“Decided on what you want?”

“Yeah. I’ll take a large green tea with orange made with whole milk. No toppings. And… A medium chocolate shake with chocolate pieces, if you would.”

“Whipped cream?”

“ _Definitely_.”

Danny paid for his treats and the woman got started on making them while the two took a seat at one of the small tables closer to the back. They wouldn’t risk talking shop in a place this public, but that didn’t mean they wanted to be seated too close to the others in the shop. They were bound to be remembered in such a small establishment. There was no reason to make things any more difficult on themselves.

“Ice cream _and_ a milk shake? You’re gonna wind up with diabetes before you hit forty.”

Danny grinned, entirely unperturbed.

“Sweet tooth runs in the family. I just can’t avoid it. Did I ever tell you how much sugar my dad puts in his coffee? Besides, the shake’s not for me.”

Grey bypassed his first comment about how Danny was adopted so that really shouldn’t even be a factor to address the more concerning second issue.

“You can’t be serious. You ordered me a shake in this weather?”

Danny’s insanity on its own was one thing. He could be his crazy self all he wanted without judgment from Grey. The killer just didn’t want to be a part of it. His partner smirked at him in a way that had Grey momentarily doubting which of the two of them was supposed to be the morally ambiguous one.

“I just thought, perhaps, you _deserved_ it.”

Grey gaped at him, surprised despite himself.

“Are you _punishing_ me? For last night?”

Danny opened his mouth to respond before an awkward cough pulled both their attentions to the employee delivering their food. She was bright red and avoided looking at them in the eye. As soon as the ice cream was on the table, she turned and fled back behind the counter. Danny leaned across to swipe a finger through the whipped cream topping Grey’s shake and popped it into his mouth shamelessly.

Grey fought the urge to drop his face into his hands. There was no way that woman was going to forget them now. So much for laying low and avoiding attention. Maybe he should have killed Danny after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, this has to be one of my favorite chapters for these two out of all the ones I've written.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grey and Danny go on a couple searches. One is more successful than the other.

Grey was cold to his very bones when they stepped back out onto the streets. He stuffed his hands deep into his pockets and kept his arms clamped against his sides as they walked the few blocks back to the transit station. Danny, the utter bastard, seemed entirely unaffected.

They rode the train all the way back to the Magnificent Mile and the sky had turned dark by the time they were back in the open air. Grey bee lined for a little café where he bought a hot coffee and warm sandwich. He pointedly ignored Danny’s snickering behind him as his partner placed his own order. Once they had their food and drinks in hand, they headed back into the night.

The streets were even more populated than they had been before, since it was several hours earlier in the day. Grey and Danny blended seamlessly in with the rest of the milling tourists and business people, huddling to keep warm but still unable to stop looking at the architecture and shops all along the street. It didn’t take them longer than fifteen minutes to reach the alcove where Grey had talked to the woman the day before. It was a much shorter walk when he wasn’t stopping to talk to every homeless person he stumbled across.

All of the individuals he’d talked to the day before were back in their same positions, signs out and ignoring everyone’s existence. When they got to where the woman had been, though, she was nowhere to be found. Grey frowned in frustration, but stepped into the alcove to get out of the wind. Danny slid in right next to him. There was just enough space for them to have a private conversation without being too crowded.

“She probably knew we were coming.”

Grey hummed in agreement, eyes fixed on the street and those passing by. Hardly anyone so much as threw them a sideways glance.

“It was probably the children. There’s definitely something going on here. Otherwise she wouldn’t have bothered not showing up.”

As much as something within him hated to admit it, it was the truth. There was no denying that something not quite right was going on concerning the woman he’d met the night before.

“So what are you thinking about this address you were given? A trap?”

Grey considered Danny’s question with a frown on his face, on hand moving to trail along the handle of his .45. He had his 380 strapped to his ankle as an added comfort.

“Could be. It’s still possible she got spooked for other reasons, too. She might play a role that doesn’t link to them…and I was given the address before we saw the kids today.”

“Doesn’t mean that she couldn’t have gotten in contact afterwards.”

He nodded along to his partner’s words.

“At the very least, it’ll be interesting to find out, right?”

Danny nearly smacked his head against the concrete wall behind him when he threw it back laughing.

“You have the worst sense of entertainment of anyone I’ve ever met,” the younger man said, but he didn’t disagree.

They had to wait until the next morning in order to make their way to the meeting place, the lower river walk next to the bridge museum. What he appreciated the chance to head back to the motel and fall into bed. After his previous all-nighter he was more than ready to admit he needed the sleep.

It wasn’t so much the walking that he minded. He was used to traveling long distances on foot. They very rarely rented a car on their assignments. It was too easy a thing to track. What bothered him was being out in the cold so much. He hated the way it bit at his nose and cheeks along with any other bit of exposed flesh. He’d had enough of the cold growing up in Newark and the last thing he wanted was to remember the experience. Why couldn’t they have an assignment in Mexico or Brazil or somewhere _warm_?

“So, what’s the plan of approach?”

“I do the talking and you keep your big mouth shut.”

Danny snorted, not at all offended.

“I don’t know why being friendly puts the baddies so ill at ease. They’re always so much more comfortable around you than me.”

Grey shrugged.

“They can probably sense a kindred spirit, someone every bit as depraved as they are.”

That got Danny laughing aloud and Grey sent him a look. They didn’t need people staring.

“Right, right! Kindred in the way that you want to…oh, right.”

Danny pressed his lips tightly together, cutting off whatever depiction he’d been about to give of Grey killing the men. He heaved a sigh.

“Sorry. I’m just tired. I keep forgetting that we’re in public.”

Grey snorted. They’d spent the night before researching the different neighborhoods of the city to check out some of the areas with higher crime rates, just to see what they could find. The answer was not much.

“It’s the burden we bear.”

They drifted back into silence for the duration of the trip. As soon as they neared the canal that ran through the city they took the stairs down to walk along the bank.  The bridge museum was nestled on the opposite shore. There was a steady flow of foot traffic back and forth on either side of the bridge, which was a plus for them. It was much easier to blend in when there were plenty of other people around for cover.

“Now,” Danny said as he leaned over the walkway’s railing like an enamored tourist, “let’s see who this scum bag we’re hunting is…”

It was always a good idea to scope out the area and who they might be going up against. Grey scanned the bustling individuals across the waterway, looking for a likely candidate.

“It could be that guy.”

He jerked his chin in the direction of a man sitting on a bench. The man wore a hoodie and jeans and kept glancing around in a nervous manner. He was certainly skittish enough to fit the bill for a drug dealer. Then again, perhaps he was a little _too_ skittish. Danny shrugged upon spotting the guy.

“It could be. Then again, maybe not. You got your earpiece in?”

Grey smirked and turned away, gazing up at the sky for a moment before returning his eyes to his partner.

“I wouldn’t dream of going anywhere without it.”

Danny grinned at him.

“Then I’ll be with you. Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Giving his partner a wave over his shoulder, Grey headed off to jog back up the stairs and come level with the bridge once again. He slipped in with the foot traffic crossing from one side of the city to the other and was soon trotting back down to the river walkway level on the other side. He looked like just another commuter or tourist out to enjoy the scenery of the river as opposed to the more crowded streets above. Setting a casual pace, he strolled toward the bridge museum.

The man who’d been sitting on the bench was already gone by the time he got there, so that eliminated his first choice. It was possible the dealer was late, a hazard of working in the industry. Things had a tendency to come up and time wasn’t always a top priority. Or it could be that Grey just hadn’t spotted him yet. That was always a possibility.

His gaze flitted from person to person as he passed through the crowd, attempting to pick up on who he was supposed to be meeting. Businessmen and tourists were passing by at a steady rate, some of the tourists dipping into the museum. There was a homeless guy crouched under the bridge with a sign. It was honestly beginning to surprise Grey just how many homeless were in Chicago. They seemed to be everywhere. He briefly wondered how many of them were actually homeless and how many were just out there begging because it brought in more money than getting a minimum wage job.

Well… that was a thought.

He turned his gaze toward the homeless guy again, this time taking in a bit more of his appearance and trying to analyze what he saw. It certainly wasn’t his greatest skill, but he at least had learned enough to hopefully pick out something. Danny was worlds better at it than he was, but Grey couldn’t exactly call him on the com link to ask him to come up with the guy’s entire life story. He’d have to rely solely on himself.

He approached the man slowly, examining the water for a bit before turning to gaze up at the street while keeping the man in the edge of his vision. The man’s hair was scraggly, but he was clean shaven. It wasn’t some rough shave, either, like it was done with some cheap, disposable razor. It was clean, like from an electric razor. A grin spread across Grey’s face and he stepped closer to crouch in front of him.

“Hey. I think you might be just the guy I’m looking for.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions and answer time!

The homeless man sent Grey a baleful look.

“Doubt it,” he said in a gruff voice that sounded like he’d smoked at least two packs a day for his entire life. Grey just gave him a shrug.

“Well, I’m looking for someone who’s supposed to be here and… here you are.”

The man just kept on glaring, but there was an assessing gleam in his eye and Grey counted that as a win. He could feel his heart pounding away in his chest, the excitement sending a thrill through his veins. He tried to tamp down on the sensation. Now was not the time to get carried away.

“Yeah? Who’re you looking for?”

“Some guy who has something I want.”

An eyebrow went up, but it wasn’t questioning. This was definitely the guy he was looking for. Grey had to give him credit for the whole homeless look. Grey noticed him because it was his job to notice things like that and tourists might notice him if they weren’t used to seeing homeless back home. But people who lived in the city? They’d look right past him. The tourists who _did_ notice him weren’t likely to remember him either.

“Who sent you?”

Grey shook his head and forced a good-natured smile onto his face.

“He didn’t exactly give me a name.”

“Yeah? No name for him and no name for who you’re meeting? How the Hell’re you supposed to know you got the right guy?”

“I figured I’d know him when I saw him. Or he’d know me.”

That earned him a disbelieving look, but Grey wasn’t fooled. He’d played this game too many times for that. He understood that he wasn’t the only one who had to be sure about the other’s intentions. How was this man supposed to be assured that he wasn’t a cop? Granted, he’d have to be a clever one to get this far but one could never be too careful, especially when selling extremely illegal drugs.

“Sure, sure. That seems fair.” The man couldn’t have sounded more condescending if he’d tried. “How about this, then? You slip a couple hundred dollars in my tin here and I’ll point you towards a bush or something while I make a run for it.”

Grey laughed, mostly because he actually appreciated the man’s sense of humor. He shared a very similar one. He could hear Danny chuckling right along through the ear piece. Good to know he was listening at the very least. That excitement was starting to bubble up again and he might need his partner’s help to calm himself down. He’d never been very good at doing it on his own. It’d gotten him in trouble more than once.

“You could do that, I suppose.” Grey tipped his head to one side as though in thought. “You wouldn’t get very far, though.”

“Wouldn’t I? What, are you secretly an Olympic sprinter?”

He sounded amused, which was good. Grey liked it better when they were lulled into a false sense of security. He chuckled again, the thought of putting a bullet through the man’s eyes making him just a little bit giddy.

“Not nearly. I’m actually not a great runner. I’m more of a ‘sit still and wait’ kind of guy myself. I’d probably track down where you live and show up there with a screw driver and a blowtorch.” His grin was stretching across his face, the images filling his mind. “I wonder, are you a screamer?”

Suddenly, Danny’s voice piped up in his ear.

_“Slow down there, big guy. You don’t want to scare him off.”_

Grey shook his head to clear it, coming back to himself a bit. He sent the man in front of him what he hoped was an apologetic smile. The other’s eyes were wide and his muscles tensed to flee like a frightened rabbit.

“Sorry about that. I’m a bit protective, don’t like being ripped off. You understand right?”

The man nodded shakily, fear still in his eyes.

“Good, good…So if you’re _not_ the guy I’m looking for then I just suggest you tell me instead of playing games. I’ve never been much into those, either.”

The man nodded sharply and coughed a bit.

“No, no. I am. I just-I couldn’t-“

“You needed to be sure,” Grey cut him off. “I understand.”

He’d been told more than once that his smile was more predatory than friendly, but he hoped he could cover it up enough to put the man a bit more at ease. He really hadn’t meant to scare him quite so much. It was just that he was getting so _close_ and it had been so _long_ since he’d had the chance to kill someone. People with Grey’s condition weren’t exactly known for suppressing their urges for any extended length of time.

“Yes! But, I, uh, don’t think I need to worry about that.”

Grey shook his head in an indulgent manner.

“No, I don’t think you do.”

“What do you want?” the man asked, suddenly so willing to be helpful. “If I don’t have it, I can get it.”

The killer’s grin was razor sharp.

“Clary. I heard you’re one of the only guys around who’s selling it.”

There was some uncomfortable shifting, but finally the man nodded jerkily.

“Yeah, I’ve got it. So, uh, how much did you want to buy? I don’t carry much on me, you understand. But I can get more if you need it!”

The look of panic was coming back into the man’s eyes and Grey held up a hand to silence him. The last thing either of them needed was for him to get hysterical and cause a scene.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll take whatever you have on you.”

The man nodded and immediately reached into the pocket where his supply must have been kept. When he hesitated, though, Grey frowned. It took him a moment to figure out what the problem was.

“Don’t worry. I still plan on paying. I may not like being cheated, but I don’t like cheating others, either. I like to think of myself as a rather moral person, you see.”

The somewhat-joke did its job and drew a nervous chuckle from the man.

“Right. $200, then. Just put it in the tin.”

Grey responded immediately by slipping the money out of his wallet and into the tin. He didn’t think the man would try and rip him off now, after everything, and it was hardly his money anyway. The man passed him a dirty cloth in exchange and Grey could feel the crinkle of plastic underneath the fabric. He lifted the edge a bit to peek inside. Sure enough, the pills matched perfectly with the ones in the pictures the Agency had given them.

“I must admit, this is very exciting. I wish I could get access to these back home. You wouldn’t consider expanding business, would you?”

 _‘Grey…’_ Danny warned through the earpiece and Grey found himself backtracking immediately in response to his partner’s tone.

“Sorry, sorry. Forget I said that. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

He pocketed the dirty clothe with the pills inside and stood up before the man could give a response. He wasn’t really interested in drawing this out. He was about three steps away when a thought struck him and he spun around. The man nearly jumped out of his skin when he did and seemed to grow quite nervous when Grey retraced his steps back to crouch in front of him.

“Forgot something?”

“Just curious. Are there any others like you? Who use the whole homeless gimmick?”

“Uh, yeah. A couple.”

“Any women? Green eyes?”

The man’s brows drew together in confusion as he shook his head and Grey frowned, turning to leave again. It would have been one thing if the woman he’d met the other night had turned out to be in disguise, but apparently she wasn’t one of them… Just who was she, then?


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grey and Danny get breakfast... again.

_“So, I’m not saying you should buy me something to eat, but there’s a bagel shop right there on the corner that I’m betting will sell bacon.”_

Grey rolled his eyes, but headed across the street to duck into the restaurant anyway. Danny had kept him in check back there, kept him from going too far, so Grey did owe him. Part of him knew that Danny was taking advantage, something that Danny did on a quite regular basis, but it was so common that he considered it more as a part of their routine than anything else. They just knew each other too well for either of them to be able to get away with anything.

Once he’d stood in the relatively short line long enough to reach the counter, Grey placed an order for two bagel and egg sandwiches with cheese and bacon. It took only about a minute for the order to come up and he was quickly back out in the crisp air. Danny was waiting for him at the top of the stairs leading to the lower river walkway, practically quivering with excitement.

“I want you to know, Grey, this right here is exactly why I love you.”

The killer handed over Danny’s food without comment and they easily fell into step. It was kind of odd to hear Danny’s voice both beside him and through the com in his ear, but they wouldn’t be able to take it out until they were back in the privacy of their motel room.

“So what now? Obviously, we’re headed back to the motel for at least a bit, but what do you want the next step to be?”

Grey frowned in thought, mulling it over. He appreciated that Danny wanted his opinion, even more or less gave him the reigns of the operation, but there wasn’t a whole lot of options open to them at the moment.

“We need to see if the Agency has gotten back to us with any of that information we requested. They’re usually not this slow about things. And we need to test the product.” By which he meant the drugs in his pocket. “If they’re the real thing, then we can move forward as planned. If they aren’t, then there’s something else going on.”

They had all the necessary lab equipment in their room to do a basic chemical breakdown of the pills Grey had just bought. The process would take maybe an hour and then the result could be sent off for analysis without much trouble. Neither Danny nor Grey had enough knowledge in that area to look at the data and be able to draw any useful conclusions.

Danny was nodding along beside him, clearly more focused on his breakfast than the conversation. Grey wasn’t sure he would ever quite understand the fascination Danny had with the first meal of the day, but he was fairly certain his partner would be happy eating bacon and eggs for the rest of his life. It was actually kind of endearing once he got used to it. Danny finished his sandwich and tossed the wrapped in the garbage before he returned his attention to their conversation.

“You know, we have to figure out a way to get in closer with the organization. All this traipsing from one dealer to the other is fine and good, but it’s not getting us anywhere fast. We need to go to the source.”

“It would be a little too obvious if we just started showing up at all of Rocky’s usual hang outs. We’d be more likely to get ourselves,” Grey paused to search for a good euphemism for getting themselves shot full of holes, “negatively noticed than anything else. However we get in touch with Rocky or his organization, we have to be able to get in close enough to find and take out those most likely to step into his shoes. There’s no point in removing him if someone else is just going to immediately take his place. That’s not what the Agency wants.”

They both knew he was right, but Danny still had that frown on his face like he was trying to get around a particularly strong annoyance.

“Well, what if we didn’t start showing up at all of them? What if we just picked one place and hung out there for a day? We’ll have the time while we’re waiting for the results. We could do it this afternoon after we change. If he doesn’t show up, we leave. No harm done. If he _does_ then we arrange a little something to make you seem like a guy he’d like to get to know.”

Grey rolled his eyes heavenward, not for the first time thinking his partner might have actually lost his mind.

“What is this, a dating service in a low-budget romcom? How exactly are we supposed to make me seem like ‘a guy he’d like to get to know’?”

Danny beamed at him, even though Grey knew his own words had been laced with enough sarcasm to down a small elephant.

“Well, admittedly, I haven’t quite gotten that part figured out yet…. but I’m working it! I figure we can work with your usual creepy, attractive mojo. I’m sure he’ll be quick to pick up on it.”

“So I’m just supposed to sit there and beam my less-than-moral thoughts at him so he can pick them up on his Radar of Nastiness?”

He blamed prolonged exposure to Danny for those words ever leaving his mouth.

“Hmm, no. I was thinking maybe bump into him or something. Give him a reason to notice you. _Then_ you can beam your less-than-moral thoughts at him. It’ll be important to get him focused first.”

“That’s an awful idea,” Grey deadpanned. “But I would like to actually be able to get eyes on this guy in the flesh at some point and I’d prefer that to be sooner rather than later.”

“So you’re in!”

“We’ll go camp out at one of the cafés listed in the report, but no more than that. I’m not going to be interacting with the target in some half-assed plan of yours that could threaten our success in the long run. Chances are that we won’t even run into him. It wouldn’t be surprising, the way this assignment is going so far.”

“Oh, don’t be such a Debbie Downer. You’re only upset ‘cause you haven’t gotten to the Main Event yet.”

Well, Grey couldn’t deny it. He would definitely feel a lot better once he got to actually kill somebody.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Its extremely important to me to get constructive criticism and honest opinions on this work. The ONLY way I can improve it and my writing in general is through feedback so PLEASE do not hesitate to leave a comment and tell me how you feel about each chapter. It would be greatly appreciated.


End file.
